


Don't You Love Me?

by ProblemWithTrouble



Series: Prompts [7]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Drinking, M/M, Pining, talking about feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-21
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2020-07-10 08:43:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19902961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProblemWithTrouble/pseuds/ProblemWithTrouble
Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley are having a nice night of drinking wine a few years after the Apocalypse that wasn't and Aziraphale slips up.“What is it?”Crowley didn’t answer for a second, words failing him and his mouth making noises that weren’t a part of any language, human or otherwise. “Why would you think I love you?”“I’ve told you; I am a being of love. I can feel it.”





	Don't You Love Me?

The bookshop was closed for the night, which pointed less to what time it was and more to the fact that Crowley had come by and offered to take him out for dinner. After dinner they had come back and Aziraphale had brought a few bottles of wine from the basement. That had been two hours ago and now Crowley was sprawled over the couch and Aziraphale was in his chair across from him. 

They were arguing about something to do with deep-sea life, but Crowley wasn’t sure what it was about the deep-sea life that they were arguing about. Angler fish? Hydrothermal vents? Viperfish? It didn’t really matter. 

Aziraphale picked up the last bottle and turned it upside down to only get two drops into his glass. He scrunched up his nose and frowned at it before setting it back down with exaggerated movements. Crowley was fighting the smile that he knew was too smitten for either of their own good. 

“I knew I should have grabbed the extra bottle. Crowley, would you please go get another case from the basement?” Aziraphale asked, still frowning at his glass. 

“Go get it yourself, I still have some,” Crowley said, raising his still half full wine glass at his angel. Everything was warm and pleasant and in a second Aziraphale would miracle that bottle already open onto the table next to him. Crowley took another sip of wine, his smile hidden in the glass and the warmth of his gaze behind the dark sunglasses. 

Aziraphale pouted at him. “Don’t you love me?” 

If there had been music for Crowley to bring to a screeching stop, he would have. He was halfway to sober without any effort as panic set into him. His eyes had gone wide behind the glasses and his relaxed posture had become just slightly difficult to maintain. But as he stared at Aziraphale the angel didn’t seem to notice that he had said anything out of the ordinary. If anything, he looked like he was still waiting for Crowley to bring them more wine. 

“What is it?”

Crowley didn’t answer for a second, words failing him and his mouth making noises that weren’t a part of any language, human or otherwise. “Why would you think I love you?” 

Aziraphale frowned and did miracle the extra botte next to him and poured himself another glass. “I’ve told you; I am a being of love. I can feel it.” 

“I am a demon, I can’t love,” Crowley said. The words felt like sawdust in his mouth. But they were true. He could be smitten, and he could care but love was something else. That was something that had burnt out of him while he had sauntered vaguely downward. So, he was taken with Aziraphale but he wasn’t in love. 

Aziraphale looked at his glass and set it aside. “Don’t be ridiculous. I can _feel_ it. I’ve been able to ever since…the uh, church and the books and the spies. When was that?”

Crowley, who was getting closer to sober by the second and deeply unhappy about it, frowned at him. The angel’s senses obviously weren’t as sharp as he thought. Crowley had been aware of his… feelings since he had miracled Hamlet into being popular even though he liked he funny ones. “Sometime in the 1940s, maybe the 30s.” Keeping track of exact years or decades was difficult when you had six thousand years of memories in your mind. And that was only after time had been invented, there was a while before that too. 

“That’s it!” He watched Crowley for a long beat then sat up in his chair and with some effort sobered up; or got to the same halfway point that Crowley was at. This wasn’t a conversation that either of them thought they could have fully sober. Six millennia worth of silence was a lot to break through. “Did you think I didn’t know?”

“Of course, you knew. Too fast, right?” Crowley gave him a sharp smile that he hoped would signal to Aziraphale just how much he didn’t want to do this right then. It had only been a few years since the Apocalypse-That-Wasn’t which had been a decade full of the angel reminding him just where they stood. He needed a few decades before he could deal with that again. 

“I caught up,” he said defensively. 

Crowley laughed at him, sharp and as mean as he could manage. “When?” 

“At the Ritz. I told you so.”

“When?” Crowley’s voice was significantly higher pitched this time. 

“When we toasted. You said to the world and I said the world and I made it very obvious I meant you,” Aziraphale said, the look in his eyes becoming a little confused. “Did you not notice?”

“I can’t bloody well feel every warm and fuzzy emotion everyone around me has,” Crowley snapped at him. 

Aziraphale rolled his eyes like Crowley had been purposefully obtuse to his feelings. He got up from his chair and came to sit next to Crowley who adjusted himself so there was actually room on the couch. “Then, darling, in the interest of _clarity_ I love you too.” 

Crowley looked at him and pouted. “I never said I love you.”

Aziraphale smiled at him and then looked at the couch cushion where their hands were almost touching. “Yes, you did.”

Crowley scoffed but a second later there was a kiss on Aziraphale’s cheek that only lasted a spilt second and then Crowley was back to drinking, but the wine couldn’t hide his blush. Not even he could imagine it away, especially when Aziraphale took his hand and went back to arguing about deep sea life like nothing had changed.


End file.
